


herbe bleue / toujours

by fleaflofloyd



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:14:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28286811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleaflofloyd/pseuds/fleaflofloyd
Summary: Lucille knows there are rules. Procedures in place.They've just blown them all away.---A huge, huge, huge thank you to the Twitter CTM group. You know who you are.Part of the 'I never thought...' universe. It's been a ride.
Relationships: Christopher Dockerill/Trixie Franklin, Lucille Anderson/Valerie Dyer
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	herbe bleue / toujours

_You are always new._

_The last of your kisses was even the sweetest;_

_the last smile the brightest;_

_the last movement the gracefullest._

John Keats, letter to Fanny Brawne, March 1820

_They say our love won't pay the rent,_

_before it's earned our money's all been spent,_

_I guess that's so, we don't have a plot,_

_but at least I'm sure of all the things we got._

Sonny & Cher, I Got You Babe, July 1965

_ Two are better than one;  _

_ because they have a good reward for their labour. _

_ For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow:  _

_ but woe to him that is alone when he falleth;  _

_ for he hath not another to help him up. _

_ Again, if two lie together, then they have heat:  _

_ but how can one be warm alone? _

_ And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him;  _

_ and a threefold cord is not quickly broken. _

Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

"I think I'm done."

Lucille is pulled away from Emma Woodhouse and Frank Churchill by Valerie's voice across their room. She looks over at her by the wardrobe, puzzled by the sentence.

"With what, my love?"

Val looks at her plainly and says:

"Us."

Lucille startles awake, tendrils of fear still gripping her in the dark.

_It's just a dream--_

She rolls over in bed, hand instinctively reaching for Valerie.

It meets air.

_Oh._

_Mother Mildred._

Lucille lets her eyes adjust to the darkness, seeing the sleeping form of Valerie in her own bed, across the short expanse of floor space.

The Mother Superior had shown up two days ago, unexpectedly visiting to check on Val's well-being, now that they were back from their break in St Albans. She'd been shadowing Val at the clinic; offering up observations about their work and about Valerie and life in general, the same way she'd done after Val's return to light duties.

Val had taken her presence in her stride during that week, but now...

This particular visit is bristling Val, leaving Lucille to be the one to smooth her down, make her a little less...

Prickly.

Lucille knows it's mostly just the lingering effects of the last month and the actions of Val's grandfather that have left her a little short-tempered. A little too confrontational with another authoritative figure in her life.

Valerie's walls are up, put there for her own protection.

Lucille won't admonish her for it.

It just makes her miss her.

There'd been no discussion between the two of them about their sleeping arrangements; they'd simply known their beds would need to stay apart for the duration. Sister Julienne had given them a long look across the dining room table, enough for them to know what was expected of them.

Distance and professionalism.

Lucille would hazard a guess that their current predicament has lead to her bad dream, and the words said within it.

She sighs loudly and drops her hand down towards the floor.

"I miss you," she whispers at Valerie, watching quietly as she sleeps on.

She's gotten better in the two weeks they've been back. Made an effort to eat and smile more. She still looks a little worn around the edges by the end of the day, but Phyllis had commended her for her refreshed enthusiasm at work, and Lucille knows the kind words have encouraged Val.

There's a spark of renewal coming through in those wondrous blue eyes of hers that Lucille's been desperately searching for since mid-October.

Mother Mildred appearing, seemingly from the thin air like a ghostly apparition, had dulled that--

"Lu?"

She comes back to the room at the sound of the voice, finding the darkened figure of Valerie turned towards her, sitting up on her elbow, face in shadow.

She's woken her with those three words, felt in the very bones of her.

"Go back to sleep, precious."

Valerie instead reaches out a hand towards her.

She lifts hers and latches on, feeling her fingers squeezed.

"What's wrong, chick?" There's a short yawn.

Lucille sighs again, quieter this time. "Had a bad dream, that's all."

Her words have an immediate effect. She watches as her love unceremoniously kicks her blankets off and approaches, sitting beside her.

Their hands stay together in the upheaval.

"Are you alright?" Val asks quietly.

Lucille nods. Knows she needs to explain it. "Mother Mildred's presence is affecting me too...I've been..." She loses her words, caught by Valerie kissing her knuckles, a motion she knows all too well.

Her skin had been cool. Much, much colder than Lucille remembered, motionless in a hospital bed.

So cold.

December's here again, less than a week away from the anniversary of that terrible night when she'd had to cut into--

Something brushes her cheek.

It's Val's hand, warm now against her skin.

Warm now.

Warm from now on.

"I thought it was me that did the staring off into space thing..."

Lucille looks at Valerie, bent forwards to comfort her. To lighten the mood with her words and presence.

She huffs softly. "I miss your body. I miss rolling over and extending my arm and finding you there. I know it's only been two nights, but...it's December and I miss you."

Valerie brushes her cheek with her thumb. "I'm here, Lu. Just in the other bed."

"It's not close enough."

It isn't.

It hasn't been.

She misses her skin as much as she misses her physical presence.

The intimacy that comes with--

"Lucille."

Tired blue eyes are darkened in the shadows, blackening by the second.

Lucille draws up, nose to nose with Valerie. Her hands reach around a steady body for support.

"We can't," Val whispers, caressing the tip of her nose along Lucille's.

Lucille knows this. 

Hates it.

"I want to, though." Valerie settles her forehead against Lucille's. "I'm...I'm ready for that now, when we get rid of our unwan...our visitor."

Lucille hears the correction and agrees silently with it. 

This isn't Mother Mildred's fault. She knows deep down that Val appreciates their superior's concern, and that she's here, taking the time to see for herself that Val's spirits have lifted.

Each one of their colleagues has assisted in this endeavour, along with Val's family.

Lucille is grateful for their continued support.

She's grateful to be here at this moment, two weeks away from Christmas, with the love of her life.

"Come on," Valerie whispers. "Don't leave me hanging here."

Lucille smiles, and kisses her softly.

\---

They're summoned to the dining room the next morning, Phyllis unsure of the details when they ask, Lucille feeling dread settle in her stomach.

Mother Mildred will not speak of the issue until Trixie, the last to arrive in her pyjamas after a late birth, is settled in the living room.

There's a letter in Sister Julienne's hand, and she's gripping it tightly.

They know what it is.

"I am very sorry to say," Mother Mildred begins, "that I received a phone call from the council last Thursday that a decision has been made regarding the future of Nonnatus House. I've been waiting for the official documentation to arrive in the mail, but due to some unforeseen delay in the matter, I led you all to believe I was here to supervise Nurse Dyer. Now that this letter has arrived, Sister Julienne and I have the unfortunate task of informing you all that the council has decided to close Nonnatus House at the end of January."

There's a beat of silence, the grandfather clock ticking away the seconds.

Lucille feels a finger brush her own, searching for connection. She slips her hand into Val's and holds it steady as Phyllis asks if anything can be done.

"Mother Mildred and I have tried," Sister Julienne responds, "as well as Mrs Buckle in the last few days. I'm afraid that the twelve-month extension we were granted last year will be the last one we are given."

"This is ridiculous," Trixie says. "We have a duty of care to the women of the East..."

Lucille feels her hand squeezed and looks Val's way.

She can see something dawning in blue eyes, some other feeling crossing her face.

It's not worry or dread.

It's lighter.

_Happiness?_

No.

_Relief._

It's relief.

"Are you okay about this, Val?" she asks.

Lucille sees her slowly nod as their friends continue to heatedly debate the issue.

"Am I cruel for it?"

Her mind flashes back to _am I filthy Lu?_ and the way Val had looked, broken down just a few short weeks ago.

She will not let her go back to that. 

She shakes her head. "You've had a tough year. You're allowed to feel the way you do, okay?"

"But you want to stay--I know you do."

She does.

Of course, she does.

Except--well, she wants something more than this place.

She wants to be wherever Valerie Dyer of Grundy Street is.

They've made that promise to one another already, to be each others home.

Val had found her at the Nonnatus front door, beckoning her in from the bitter cold. They'd been colleagues and fast friends, growing towards one another over hot chocolate and rum and tea and biscuits. She'd wanted to be her friend, her confidant, the one Val came to in her time of need. The one Val told her secrets to. The one she held closest to her heart.

The only one.

Her one and only.

She'd been gone on Valerie long before she'd let herself feel it that afternoon by Cyril's side. Months before the heat of a bonfire and the brilliancy of fireworks failed to match the warmth inside her chest and the blue of familiar eyes. Years before the screeching of tyres had hurtled her towards an explanation. A comprehension of what exactly she was about to lose.

The world, encompassed in one person.

Valerie.

Her person.

Her heart.

Her mind slips back to last Christmas Eve, speaking of things yet to happen.

She hasn't ever told Valerie about those words. About how she'd wished their life into existence as she'd been on the verge of losing it.

Losing her.

She blinks back to the room to find Val still watching her, waiting worriedly.

"I want to be wherever you are."

Blue eyes widen briefly before they soften into acceptance. Into understanding. "You sure you don't want to fight to stay? We can if you want."

Lucille shakes her head and turns directly to Val. Sets her other hand on top of the one holding the cane. Squeezes it gently.

Closer to the edge of a cliff.

Neither of them looks away to see if the move's been noticed.

Lucille finds she's not fussed either way. The feeling's reflected back to her in Val's steady gaze. 

She knows her friends know. She has their support.

She doesn't much care for Mother Mildred's opinion on the matter, now that it doesn't matter any more.

Valerie steps forward into her space and wraps her arms around her waist. Lucille feels the cane brush her bottom and the back of her leg. She draws her own hands up to mirror the move, hip to hip now.

No excuses.

No hiding.

"Last Christmas Eve, when I was waiting for..." Lucille swallows thickly against her tightening throat, feeling her eyes prickle with tears. "While I was watching you fight for your life, I talked to you. Told you that we were going to have the most wonderful life together. That we'd find our own little home, with a decent kitchen for me to teach you how to cook in."

Valerie smiles, eyes watering at the same time.

Lucille smiles back. "Your Mum would come to stay for the holidays, and Trixie and Phillis would be over each week for scrabble. We'd get a cat."

"Or a dog," Val quips.

"Both."

Val has their names already picked out, she knows. She won't mention them, should that trigger the memory of...

She needs to let it go now too.

"You'll read every book I've ever told you to read, and I'll help when you get the itch to redecorate."

Lucille remembers kissing Valerie's cool hand then, drowning in her heartbreak.

Willing her words to be true, with everything she had.

A tear rolls down her face, and she recognizes the silence now surrounding them.

Their friends are simply watching. Simply listening.

She sees that Valerie has noticed too.

Neither of them looks to confirm it, but they know.

Off the edge now, hurtling towards the sea.

Blue eyes are watering quickly.

She's nearly finished.

"Whatever the colour, whatever the furniture, it will a-always--" Lucille's voice cracks, and she fights to keep from losing it, so close now. "It will always be full of warmth and l-love. As long as we're together, I'll be happy."

She cries then, letting the moment consume her as Valerie tilts forward and cries with her.

"I-It's okay--we're okay," her love stammers out in an attempt to comfort her.

Into the sea.

Trying to break the surface for air.

She loves her, above everything--

"Nurse Dyer and Nurse Anderson, you are to join Sister Julienne and me in her office right away."

They separate slowly and look across in the direction of Mother Mildred.

There's no ferocity to her tone. No anger. No disgust.

But it's direct. Not up for discussion.

Lucille knows there are rules. Procedures in place.

They've just blown them all away.

_Good._

"As head nurse," Phyllis says suddenly, "I'd like to be included in this meeting."

Lucille watches her colleague stand up straight, squaring her shoulders. Readying herself for an argument.

"That won't be necessary, Nurse Crane," Sister Julienne replies.

Trixie unexpectedly steps forward, levelling her gaze at her superiors. "As Valerie and Lucille's friend, I should be allowed to speak on their behalf as well."

Before Sister Julienne can reply, Sister Hilda holds her hand up at shoulder height and says, "As should I."

"I'm the youngest here," Sister Frances adds, "but I would like the chance to defend my friends as well." 

They all turn their gazes to Sister Monica Joan, expecting her to speak.

She's paused in thought, looking at Lucille and Valerie.

_"So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love."_

Lucille's breath catches at the sound of _Corinthians 13:13_.

The right words from her, again.

The elderly nun turns to Mother Mildred. "They have been given the greatest gift God can offer. You have eyes, do you not? You could sooner turn the oceans yellow and the grass blue than stop them loving one another."

Lucille feels her chest ache for her dear friend, for all of them.

Her hand is squeezed once more. She looks at Valerie, returning her watery smile.

"You've all been aware of this?" Sister Julienne asks.

They all nod or answer in the affirmative.

"Well," Mother Mildred begins, approaching Lucille and Val, "I was going to ask you both privately the exact nature of your relationship, but it seems to be a redundant measure now. How long has this been going on for?"

"Nearly a year," Val says, voice confident and clear. "We've been professional and thorough in our work, and kept our relationship away from all patients, and I hope you take that into consideration when we ask for a work reference from you in the coming weeks."

The older woman's lips turn up a little, and Lucille considers it a win.

"I see you're ready to move onto your next adventure."

Valerie turns Lucille's way, and she nods in response, letting her know she's with her in this decision.

"We are."

\---

Later that night when Nonnatus House is quiet, Lucille holds those sparkling eyes with her own, conveying tenderness and love as their skin tingles anew. 

Hope is flourishing there in the ocean blue, finally returned.

"I've missed you," Lucille tells her, breathless.

"I'm here...I'm here."

Val uses her thumb to punctuate the feeling as fingers dip inside, and Lucille sucks in a ragged, grateful breath, the world above her warm and true.

The world and Valerie laid bare.

Their future beckoning. 

\---

They kiss under the mistletoe on Christmas Eve, right in front of Violet and Fred Buckle, the two of them laughing when the cheeky bugger jostles them from the spot for his own show of affection.

\---

"Dental hygienist wanted for busy Poplar practice on Glenroy Street--I'm sure that's Christopher's business."

Lucille hands Val a plate of toast and settles down beside her at the Nonnatus kitchen table.

"You should apply. You've got lovely pearlers. What better advertisement can there be?"

\---

The lift malfunctions on Lucille again four and a half months in.

It gives her ample time to think. To finally decide.

She waits at the bus stop that evening, Val's face suddenly worried when she sees her.

"What's happened, Lu?"

"I'm going to call my parents--tonight."

She hasn't spoken to them since she'd phoned to say Nonnatus was closing. Her mother had not so subtly implied that the change of employment would give her time to find a suitor. To fulfil God's intentions for her: husband, children and Christian servitude.

"Are you sure?" Valerie asks quietly. "It can't be...it can't be taken back, Lu."

She knows.

But she wants to tell them the truth.

Tell them that she's deeply in love. That she's happy. That God has given her the gift of Valerie Jane Dyer.

She knows they won't accept it. She knows there'll be harsh words spoken, and shouts of perversion.

But the child inside her hopes.

Still.

Despite past history and slaps across the face. Sermons spat and believed and harshly adhered to.

She hopes and prays for a miracle.

She can see Valerie hoping for the same as they settle by the Turner phone. 

Their hosts are outside, sharing a smoke in the mild June evening. Children put to bed early in this unexpected visit. Cups of coffee and pound cake plates forgotten at the kitchen table.

Valerie holds her hand as she says the words.

Prepared for anger and disgust, she's blindsided by the deliberate simplicity of the dial tone ringing in her ear.

\---

She fucks Valerie hard that night, again and again, and again, until her physical exhaustion matches her emotional emptiness.

She isn't surprised when she picks up a cold a week later.

Valerie treats her with extra care in the following weeks. Little compliments and kindnesses that mean the world. 

The significant bite mark she'd made in Val's shoulder is gone by the time they make love again, Val achingly and purposely slow.

It's everything Lucille realises she needs.

Just them.

In this together.

\---

They finally save enough money to move out of their measly lodgings on Dreardon Street.

Into their home.

Small bedrooms, small lounge, but a kitchen made for cooking.

Lucille teaches and Valerie learns.

Flour fights frequently occur.

\---

Game night happens exactly three times, and then Phyllis is moving down to Spain, her pen pal friendship with Mateo on the cusp of becoming more.

Trixie knuckles down on her studies as well and that's that.

Life.

\---

Their neighbours suspect nothing, accepting their story of best friendship, of waiting for the right man to come along.

There's another couple of girls sharing on the eighth floor. Helen Lewis and Peggy Samson. Lots of pants and prowess.

That indefinable something behind their eyes.

Her and Lucille become fast friends with them, maintaining appearances.

Valerie sees the dust on one of their bedroom door handles, betraying its disuse. The stilted way they move around one another. Keenly aware.

"Should we ask them?" Lucille questions the moment Val shuts their front door and locks it.

"Do we really need the confirmation?" Val replies, looping her arms around Lucille's waist.

"We're not exactly in abundance of friends that are like us."

Valerie hums. Pecks carefully at familiar lips. "True."

It's another three visits before Peggy hints at it with, "I'm not sure I need a man in my life."

Another would take it at face value, perhaps encourage and sympathize: 

_Give it time. One day he'll sweep you off your feet._

But not Valerie.

Not Lucille.

Because they understand.

"I'm not sure I need a man either," Valerie says, looking Peggy in the eye.

"Nor I," Lucille adds quickly.

"I agree," Helen says.

Silence takes up the next few seconds, and then they all exhale and laugh.

"You two?" Peggy asks, shoulders lifting.

"Yes," Val replies, smiling at Lucille. "Couple of years now."

Helen leans forward, pulling a necklace from beneath her collar. There's a ring attached to it. "Nine years, next week," she says. "Not legally, of course, but in the way it matters."

Peggy has a matching set.

Valerie congratulates them.

The trepidation lifts.

A plan is set for game night.

\---

She notices a little white runt with a tan coloured head among the bunch, biting at the flies as his brothers and sisters pant in the heat.

"That one," Val says to their owner, without a second thought.

Lucille frowns at the Jack Russell puppy on the couch when she gets home, and then promptly falls in love when he sits up against her chest.

"I guess you'll be the man in our life. Hello, Max."

He woo woos at her, and Lucille visibly melts.

Valerie knows her rash decision has paid off.

\---

"You knew."

Valerie stills, looking up from her task, hands left to absorb the heat and soap of the dishwater.

"He asked me for my blessing last week--big softie. Swore me to secrecy."

Lucille settles her hip against the kitchen cabinet, picking up a plate and the dishcloth to dry. "How does it feel to have deceived me?"

Brown eyes are feigning hurt, amusingly so, and Val chuckles. "Didn't feel especially good." She washes a knife and hands it over, blade down. "You know we're gonna have to take on the majority of the planning for this."

Lucille nods. Thinks a moment. "Maybe they can exchange necklaces and be done with it."

Valerie smiles warmly at the memory. Abruptly laughs.

"What?"

"I just pictured Christopher in Trixie's pearls." 

Lucille laughs heartily, showing her teeth. "Mr and Mrs Dockerill."

"Eventually Mr and Doctor Dockerill."

The two of them pause, looking at one another as they comprehend Trixie's future title and name together.

Then they're wheezing with laughter, uncontrolled, leaning together in their frivolity.

"I'm calling her Doc Dock from now on," Valerie manages to say in between laughs.

"She has definitely not considered this fact." Lucille laughs again, eyes watering.

They're still laughing about it the next day, and the next after that.

The look on Trixie's face is priceless.

"If you're going to be like that, then I hereby rescind my invitations to you both. Cheeky cows."

They only roar harder.

\---

She's happy for them. She truly is.

But she won't pretend, at least to herself, that she isn't a little sad that her friends get to do this and she does not.

That their love is deemed appropriate for the world.

But she keeps her smile on throughout her interactions with Trix, reassuring her friend that all bridesmaids are jealous of the bride, and that she's simply glad to be a part of their special day.

She only falters in the privacy of her home, Valerie quick to make her laugh, quick to distract, a puzzling and calculating look starting to appear in her eyes.

A week before the wedding, feet sore from Trixie dragging her into town for yet another dress to add to her honeymoon wardrobe, she understands that look.

"Do you remember when Val gave up smoking," Trixie says as they walk towards Lucille's door, "and I was down in the dumps about being single and said that she and you would have a wedding before me?"

Lucille nods her head, not really listening as she searches for her keys in her handbag.

"And how I desperately wanted you to get your hair done today?"

"I don't see why I couldn't have--" Lucille unlocks her front door, "--just waited until next weekend and got it done--"

Her eyes catch on a flash of white and navy blue, gone from the hall before she...

"Are you home, Val?"

There's no answer, only the sound of Max barking from the lounge.

He would've run to her already--

Something is wrong--

"Look, whoever you are, I'm married to a six-foot-eight giant, so you best--'

"Lucille, we need to get changed," Trixie laughs, taking her bag. "Our dresses are waiting in your bedroom."

"What?"

"Just do as she says, chick." 

Valerie's voice, coming from the lounge.

Max barks and whines and a male voice shushes him.

Trixie pulls her into their room.

Her yellow dress is laying on top of the bed with a black chiffon one that is much more Trixie's style.

"Welcome to your wedding, Lucille. Told you you'd beat me to it."

Their friends and family have squeezed into their lounge room.

Helen and Peggy, already wiping at their eyes.

Sam and Ray from the record store, who have shown them all the places in town meant for _them_. Who'd both gasped at their first sighting of Valerie, and proceeded to quote the last scene of _Breakfast At Tiffany's_ verbatim.

Sister Monica Joan and Sister Julienne, seated, holding hands. Sister Frances and Sister Hilda smiling cheerily behind them. Doctor Turner and Shelagh melded together.

A redhead and a shorter brunette, usually immortalised in photo frames, are beside them. She's yet to meet Patsy and Delia, but she knows they'll be friends for life.

Fred and Violet, him in his uniform and her looking splendid.

Cyril, new to the art of the bowtie, with his girlfriend Clara. Lucille likes her, and them together. Her face breaks into a smile at the sight of him, his own bright in return.

June, with her arm looped through Charlie's. Ruby and Betty feeding Max something in Richard's arms.

Lucille holds their gaze longer, blinking back her tears as the thought of her own family come to mind.

She squeezes Trixie's hand and she turns her head.

"I know, sweetie." Her friend's eyes are shining, her own parental loss evident. "I know."

Christopher is waiting with his hands behind his back. Best man to Valerie, she realises. Phyllis stands beside him, sun-kissed and smiling, two books in her hands. Lucille knows she's there to perform the ceremony.

And, finally, forever and always, her love.

Her heart skips a beat and her eyes water because of course they do.

Valerie is standing there, in her polka dot shirt and best pair of pants, hair over her left shoulder, loosely tied with pink ribbon.

Necklace prominent.

Blue eyes blazing.

_Thank You for her_ , she says quietly to heaven above.

"Not quite your six-foot-eight giant, but I hope you'll have me anyway."

Lucille grabs her hand. "I will."

"You look...exactly like you," Valerie adds, grinning at her own cleverness. "Which is to say--you look beautiful."

Lucille's eyes finally betray her, tears sliding down her cheeks.

She hears a hum of sympathies from all around, and Valerie brushes them away.

Max barks.

"He just wants pats from everyone," Valerie says, nodding at Richard to set him down.

Their furry critter races right to them and Lucille pats him quickly.

"Hey buddy, bit busy here."

Everyone laughs.

"Off you go now."

He does as he's told.

"Go ahead Phyllis," Valerie says.

Their friend welcomes everyone. Talks of watching the two of them fall in love. Reads a short passage from Keats. Reads a verse written by Sonny Bono, making Lucille laugh and roll her eyes at Valerie. Shares _Ecclesiastes 4:9-12_ with the group.

"Sister Julienne recommended it," Valerie whispers to Lucille, looking a little sheepish and uninformed.

"It's perfect," Lucille whispers back.

"Now, to the vows. Valerie, since you're more prepared..."

Valerie nods to Phyllis and takes a familiar sheet of paper from Christopher's hand.

The letter.

One page of it.

The bloodstain is long dry, but it still contrasts horribly against Valerie's skin.

Her love sniffles and clears her throat, suddenly overcome.

Lucille takes her hand again. "Say them, Val."

There's a short nod, and then Lucille is hearing Valerie speak aloud words that have only ever been between them.

_"I've been thinking about our time together lately. About how I feel when I'm with you. Up until now, I think I'd kept that out of my mind, subconsciously unwilling to let my heart go there, after the turmoil of my younger years. But you've been kind. You've been supportive. You've been funny and lovely and I'm dumbstruck by how beautiful you are."_

There are sweet murmurs from their audience.

_"The word dumbstruck is probably applicable to most things I feel in regards to you. I'm confident, however, that I've always loved you. Right from that scraped knee."_

There's a specific set of quiet sobs coming from behind her, and she knows without a doubt that it's June.

Valerie hands the page back to Chris and takes both of Lucille's hands in her own, looking into her eyes.

"I will love and cherish you for all of my days. Every single one of them will be promised to you, and you only. I fought my way through my mess, through my mistakes, through my injuries to stand by your side. I will do so forever because you have done so for me. I am here b-because--" Valerie's voice catches and she shakes her head, pushing the emotion down. "I am here because of you, and I will repay that gift with everything I have. For the rest of my days."

Lucille blinks back her tears, heart full, so deeply in love with this woman, it makes her hurt.

"I swear it, once again, to God."

Her hands are squeezed, and then Valerie smiles, breathing out sharply in relief.

"I got there," she says quickly, eliciting a laugh from Lucille and everyone.

"Now Lucille," Phyllis says softly, pulling their focus back, "I know we've sprung this on you, but if you'd like to say some words, I'm sure Valerie is ready to hear them."

Lucille thinks desperately, mind completely blank. She huffs out a breath. "You've stolen them from me."

Valerie grins, watery and shining.

And then, inexplicably all at once, because it's been threatening to do so all day (but maybe, she thinks later on that night, because the Lord likes to remind her of things when she needs them the most), it starts raining outside.

She suddenly remembers Valerie naked, watching it fall from their window at Nonnatus, and thinks:

_Emily._

_Yes._

She thinks of her favourite poem, quickly running through it in her mind, making sure she knows it off by heart.

"Don't leave me hanging here, Lu," Valerie tells her, half-serious and joking.

Trixie all but snorts, Christopher laughing at his fiancee.

Lucille rolls her eyes and begins.

_"I have no life but this,_

_To lead it here;_

_Nor any death, but lest_

_Dispelled from there;_

_Nor tie to earths to come,_

_Nor action new,_

_Except through this extent,_

_The realm of you."_

Valerie stares, and then starts crying, dropping her head.

Lucille lifts her hand and kisses her knuckles, a move that calms her love. "A little more, yes?" she explains quietly, waiting for her love to nod before continuing:

"I love you. Infinitely. Three years ago I gave you myself, and today--right now, I know I made the right choice. The Lord blessed me with your friendship and then your love. Blessed me with you...no words will ever convey how grateful I am for that. No words can convey how much you mean to me. You are my heart. I will love you until the..."

She loses her train of thought, unprepared for such a--

"Blue grass, dear Lucille," a familiar voice says.

Her and Valerie turn towards Sister Monica Joan.

The elderly woman is beaming up at them from her spot on the couch, hand bent down to pat Max.

_Of course._

Lucille returns her attention to Valerie, her blue eyes filled with the same memory.

"I will love you until the oceans turn yellow and the grass turns blue."

There are matching rings, because Valerie has thought of everything.

They'll have to take them off or wear them like Helen and Peggy. Keep them out of sight, should others ask. Should Lucille's work colleagues or Christopher's patient's question.

But for the rest of the weekend, along with two necklaces, it's the only thing they wear.

\---

"Yours was better," Trixie tells Valerie from the Riviera a week and a half later.

"Oh, hush now. Are you having a good time?"

"We are. Might even make it out of the hotel room tomorrow."

Valerie makes a gagging sound, but raises her cup of tea in solidarity anyway.

Lucille whacks her arm softly, not even looking up from today's paper.

This is it.

This is her life now.

\---

"I hope it is good one," the man says in a thick German accent.

Valerie takes the camera back from him, thanking him kindly for taking the photo.

Lucille's hand touches her bare elbow and Valerie looks at her, smiling, slipping the camera back over her neck.

"I guess we can check this radio aerial off our list now," Valerie says, looking up at the Eiffel Tower.

"Oh, please--that aerial is all you've been talking about for the last five years."

Valerie keeps her voice low as she says, "Good thing I've got the greatest travel guide as my wife. Where to now, my love?"

Lucille slides her hand into the crook of Valerie's arm as they head off towards the Seine.

"Well, the Musée du Louvre still awaits," Lucille says with perfect pronunciation, "but there's one thing in the other direction I think you'll like. You can take a photo and send it to Sarah."

"Sounds intriguing. You going to give me a clue?"

"Nope."

They're on their way there when they find themselves at the Port de Suffren. It's bustling with people, there for boat tours or a bit of lunch.

Valerie spots a family with 99's in their hands, ice cream melting down the children's fingers. They're talking animatedly in French, their joy palpable.

She thinks of her gran, ice cream on her nose, and smiles.

Lucille squeezes her arm and she looks to her.

"You want one?" Her love asks.

Valerie nods, and watches as Lucille speaks to them in French, no doubt asking for directions.

"Just a little further on, precious," Lucille tells her.

"Lead the way, chick."

She'll follow.

Always.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas. Somewhere in an alternative universe, Lucille and Valerie are happy and in love.
> 
> Remember that.


End file.
